Arienne's reflection on her sermons and last Sunday's liturgies helped me to see more clearly what is happening at Emmanuel right now. Please feel free to respond on the blog or in an email to her. --Hunt+
Today, a day immediately following a celebration the Feast of Saint Jerome at the Wednesday Healing Eucharist, I have some thoughts about Sunday I would like to share.
Jerome is often depicted as one of the four Latin fathers of the Church along with Ambrose of Milan, Augustine of Hippo and Pope Gregory I. Jerome’s story is a colorful one. In his defense of Orthodoxy and work of interpreting the Greek Bible into the vulgar language of Latin (in translations later known as the Vulgate), Jerome angered many. Our book, Lesser Feasts and Fasts 2003 closes its brief biography of Jerome thusly: “A militant champion of orthodoxy, an indefatigable worker, and a stylist of rare gifts, Jerome was seldom pleasant, but at least he was never dull.” (Lesser Feasts and Fasts 2003, 388) I rarely laugh out loud (the kids today call that LOLing) when I read official Church texts, but I did as I prepared the reflection for Wednesday morning’s liturgy.
The idea of making the Gospel vulgar is nothing new. Protestants like to point to translation into the vernacular as a Reformation innovation, but Jerome’s life reminds us that the Christian impulse toward re-contextualizing the Gospel into the cultures in which we find ourselves is not unique to Lutheranism, Calvinism, or Anglicanism. The impulse is part of our genetic blueprint. However ancient this practice, the words from Jerome’s commemoration ring true today. This process is seldom pleasant (and if you are an optimist, at least it is never dull).
I am not a person who was taught to make mistakes gracefully. There were a lot of expectations and often little grace for me as a child. One of the most freeing things about my Christian formation has been the realization that I am called to try to realize the Gospel knowing that at times I will fail and be forgiven. Part of the process of living the Gospel is acting in God’s name then reflecting on the meaning of the action and seeking reconciliation if that is required.
I would like those of you who attended either the 8:00 or the 10:30 that I preached very different sermons at each of these liturgies. I believe we at Emmanuel and the church writ large are capable of authentically holding multiple practices together as long as we focus on making each individual liturgy true to its own purpose. I have for instance many times voiced my opinion on the staff that when we do Rite 1 we should do it well and maintain traditional language and practice. Some may even be surprised to learn that the language of the Rite 1 Eucharistic Prayers and Confession is among my favorite in the Prayer Book. I translated the Mission Collect and Prayers of the People responses into Rite 1 language in order to maintain the aesthetic of this liturgy. My goal for the part I play in all the liturgies is that those in the congregation appointed to lead the liturgy identify what theology and Gospel we hope to enact then do it well.
As preacher, I authored the sermon that was delivered at 10:30. I received many positive comments about the feel and spirit of last Sunday’s 10:30 liturgy and I have also witnessed the pain some experienced because of my method of preaching. My own work of reflection involves remaining in an uncomfortable place. It is a place where I recognized in myself a genuine call to preach in a different manner than is usual. The place where I stand is one where I must recognize that my action was a symbol for some of their own disenfranchisement, pain and sadness at changes that have taken place in the past few months.
I have found that times when I have experienced disenfranchisement, pain and sadness have been crucial moments in my spiritual formation. I have wanted to say to those who are hurt some of the words I offered at the “other” sermon on Sunday, from 8:00:
“When I was discerning my call to ordained ministry, a rather disillusioned priest responded to my tears during an early discernment group meeting saying, “you need a thicker skin or they (your parishioners) are going to eat you alive.” I am glad that I have not followed this advice. The truth is I would rather hope and on occasion shed a few tears when I disagree with my fellow ministers or one of us falls short. If any of us shroud our eyes and thicken our skins it only becomes harder to experience the image of God each of us brings to our work. To do so would rob us of our chance to come closer to Christ’s body.”
When I briefly served as hospital chaplain intern in a Clinical Pastoral Education course, one of the two program heads admonished would-be chaplains to never offer a tissue to someone who was crying in a pastoral encounter. “If they need a tissue,” she said, “they will ask for it or get it for themselves. When you give someone a tissue you are telling them that you would rather they not be so messy and that is not what you want to say when you are providing pastoral care.”
Part of doing ministry is making difficult decisions and being present to their consequences: for good or ill. The ministry of reconciliation is not only that of priests and bishops who are able to pronounce absolution. The Book of Common Prayer reminds us that one of the ministries to which the laity is called is “to carry on Christ’s work of reconciliation in the world.” (BCP, 855) This work presupposes the failure of human will. It presupposes we will fall short at times. Also presupposed is the grace that we can find in being present to those with whom we disagree and those who are in pain.
I hope we can find this grace in one another as we call on God to be with us and bring his Holy Spirit to rest on our community. I hope we can begin to approach each other in new ways. I hope we can cast off seeing each other as obstacles to our goals and see instead ourselves as broken and in need of God’s strengthening touch. I hope we can approach each other not as objects of our persuasion and instead encounter fellow travelers on our long road home. And finally, I hope you will let me be with you to shed tears over what we have done and what we have left undone.
(Prayed as the opening collect each Wednesday morning in our Chapel)
God our healer, whose mercy is like a refining fire: by the loving kindness of Jesus heal us and those for whom we pray; that being renewed by you, we may witness your wholeness to our broken world; through Jesus Christ, in the power of the Spirit. Amen. (Enriching Our Worship II, 28)